


Inexplicable delight

by balvil



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Anticipation, Blood, Burns, Canon Compliant, Chaumière, Did I say trees already, Explicit Language, F/F, Feelings, Fichu, Glad she went to Paris to study anatomy, Improvised Sex Toys, Let's use it to its full potential, Let's use that chaumiere, Meal, More rope, Painplay, Rough Sex, Self Confidence Issues, Sewing, Shall we keep going?, Stroll, Surprises, Trees, Tribbing, Watercolors, binding, connection, hnng, nap, reassurance, rope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21851716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balvil/pseuds/balvil
Summary: Ann and Anne find that a day of outdoor activities by the chaumière ignites a very particular idea.
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 166





	1. Burn

A loud frustrated cry escapes Anne’s throat as the rope burns her palm. She lets it go quickly, inevitably, and the young spruce falls over the ditch with a thump.

She clenches her left fist in pain and wipes her sweaty brow with the inside of her right sleeve. “That won’t do” she exclaims to nobody in particular.

Booth rushes towards her. “Are you alright Miss Lister?” She shrugs him off while pulling her gloves from her pockets. After putting them back on, Anne grabs the downed rope from the ground ready to try again.

With a swift motion she circles the rope twice around her gloved knuckles to make a tight grip and pulls hard with both hands, certain it will work this time. 

Attempting to help, Booth reaches for the end of the rope behind her. By the time he’s in position Anne has already stood up the entire tree next to the spot where it will live for the next many decades. 

“Make yourself useful John” she cries, impatiently. “Move over there so we can slide it into position.” He silently obliges. Mr. Pickles and the other workers look on amused while breaking ground and broadening the ditch.

In the middle distance, Ann seems immersed in her watercolors. Instead, she watches Anne intently from behind her canvas. It has been over forty minutes and she has barely made any progress painting the landscape she intended. It has been entirely too distracting to see Anne in her loose white shirt and fitted brown tweed vest moving the earth around. She doesn’t understand what possesses Anne to want to do it all by herself, but she loves to watch her try.

A smile rises on her lips as she thinks about how excitable Anne gets under these circumstances. She is thoroughly impressed by Anne’s strength carrying massive boulders around to create a beautiful path towards the chaumière, just as she promised her.

She tries to hide the smile by pressing her lips together while stroking the brush against the canvas. Gently, she outlines a pale horizon over her pencil sketch of Shibden Hall. Her thoughts start to drift off when she is startled by an approaching figure. Before she has time to react, Anne is kneeling beside her sporting a wide smile and greeting her, “Hello again.” 

Ann adjusts herself on the seat and smiles happily, saying a shy hello back in a quiet voice as she feels the warmth radiating from Anne’s exercised body.

“How are you getting on?” Anne asks.

Ann tries to focus on Anne’s face but her eyes cruise all over her messy companion—mud on her cuffs, scrapes on her cheeks, her collar wrinkled and out of place. 

“Oh, I’m doing splendidly,” she remarks while instinctively clearing off the pine needles caught in the wisps of hair around Anne’s face. Anne is pleased with the proximity and the attention. She removes her gloves and places her left hand over Ann’s knee, inching closer until the smell of her exertion fills Ann’s nostrils, producing the most intoxicating effect. Ann inhales deeply and exhales heavily through her mouth. Anne watches that reaction and gives her a knowing smile while tightening her grip around Ann’s knee.

“Ouch!” Anne pulls her hand away and Ann grabs it and turns it over to inspect. “Anne! You have a terrible rope burn!” Anne shakes her head with a guilty grin. 

“It’s nothing." 

“Really, you ought to be more careful,” Ann scolds then starts to rummage through her kit on the ground looking for a handkerchief. She finds one and bunches it in her hand, then gently dips into the small clean water container for her watercolors before pressing carefully into Anne’s palm. Anne relaxes into the comforting feeling, relieved.

“I’m alright. You needn’t worry.” 

“Well, I do.”

They raise their eyes from their connected hands in synchrony and gaze at each other sweetly. “These hands are very important to me,” Ann emphasizes with a reserved and serious expression on her face. “I expect they will continue to be in their best condition for years to come.” Anne nods in agreement thinking how gentle and kind Ann is. While blotting Anne’s hand injury with gentle presses, Ann adds insistently, “Now look what you’ve done. You are all red, rough and sore”.

A sly smile immediately emerges across Anne’s face and she leans in towards Ann’s ear until they are so close Ann can feel Anne’s lips brush against her skin as they move. “Is that what you would like to be Miss Walker? Red, rough and sore?” A surge rushes through Ann’s entire body. She is so taken aback by those words and what they imply that she stops breathing for a brief moment. A full breath comes out all at once, shakingly. Standing up with a start she begins to hurriedly put her watercolors away, avoiding Anne’s gaze. “I-...”

“Ann. It’s alright.” she reassures.

“I-... I-... I know. I just. There are too many people here.” She can feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end from the jolt of electricity that climbed up her spine just a moment ago.

“They can’t hear us all the way over there. Besides, nobody is paying any attention.”

“Well, they might. And they always are.”

Anne wrinkles her brow, still smiling. “Aw, Ann, please don’t be cross.” 

Ann looks up from her things towards Anne. “I’m not cross. I’m…” she lowers her gaze again, and takes a moment to choose the right words. Her lips are dry and she feels unsteady. “I’m embarrassed...”

Anne reaches down for Ann’s hands and pulls her gently forward. Ann lifts herself and they stand facing each other. Anne’s eyebrows rise to indicate a question and Ann completes her thought looking slightly to the side, attempting to avoid Anne’s gaze. “...because I do.”

“You do? You do what?” Anne asks, hopeful. Ann’s entire face changes color, as if all her blood moved to her cheeks at once. She takes a shallow breath and whispers gently and slowly while turning to face forward, looking deeply into Anne’s eyes: “I do want to be red. And rough. And sore.” She bites her lower lip in anticipation and to keep her resolve to tell Anne exactly how she feels to her face.

Anne’s heart beats faster and she smiles, delightedly, and responds: “Oh, and so you shall.”


	2. Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After disclosing to Anne what she really wants, Ann struggles to cope with her feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endless thank you for the comments on the first chapter; I am now committed to this. Please tell me more about what you like about this story. 
> 
> This chapter picks up immediately after the previous one ends:  
>  _Anne’s heart beats faster and she smiles, delightedly, and responds: “Oh, and so you shall.”_

A moment passes.

“I need to sit down,” Ann says and immediately falls back into her seat closing her eyes. 

“Are you alright Ann?” Anne asks, slightly concerned, catching Ann’s elbow as she reaches the seat and gently holding Ann's forearm to steady her.

“Lightheaded.” She looks up holding her hat with a faint smile and notices Anne motioning Booth over towards them with her extended arm. He arrives after a few seconds of sprinting, panting. “Miss Lister?”

“Miss Walker doesn’t feel well from the hot sun and will retire in the shade. Collect her things and take them home, will you. Then ask Cordingley to prepare a cold dinner and bring by the chaumière.”

“Yes ma'am.” He nods. “Any messages for your aunt?”

“Tell her we’ll be home late,” Anne answers without taking her eyes off of Ann. Booth nods in agreement and starts to gather Ann’s belongings.

“Come, let me help you up.” Anne moves in front of Ann and lowers her torso extending both arms towards her for support. Ann grasps them tightly and is pulled swiftly up to her feet, making her feel weightless. “I’ve got you,” Anne adds, wrapping her right arm around Ann’s waist and encouraging her to move forward. 

“What are we doing?” inquires Ann, feeling disoriented.

“Let’s take some time to collect ourselves and decide what’s next, shall we?”

They walk at a slow pace towards the trees until they reach thick foliage. Ann lets out a sigh of relief when the coolness of the shade envelops her. “I suppose I overdid it” she adds. “Don’t strain yourself, we’re almost there” Anne adds with worry.

Anne can feel how weak Ann is. She looks around—everyone has dispersed and they are now alone. She can spot the chaumière ahead but worries Ann is struggling and without a second thought she stops, places her right arm under Ann’s knees, her left hand behind Ann’s back, picking her up firmly in one fell swoop. Ann feels faint and immediately lays her head on Anne’s shoulder not fully realizing what is happening. 

Anne advances to the chaumière, climbing the three stone steps nimbly before kicking the front door open with her left boot to bring Ann inside. The cool air from the stone structure feels refreshing against her cheeks as they cross the threshold.

She carefully places Ann on the  _ chaise _ by the fireplace and unties the bow under her chin allowing her hat to tumble down to the ornate rug. Moving the orange flower pillows to the edge of the  _ chaise _ , she lays Ann down comfortably on her side and gently strokes Ann’s cheek with the back of her hand for a brief moment, admiring her and feeling her temperature. 

Holding Ann’s right wrist she feels her faint pulse while counting heartbeats in her head. Kneeling on her right knee, she pulls out her pocket watch at the end of the chain and clicks it open to continue to assess Ann’s pulse. Meanwhile, she leans forward and nears Ann’s face to observe her breathing. “Hm.”

Concluding she is stable and out of harm’s way, she carefully removes Ann’s delicate shoes and massages her small feet briefly before pulling a light knitted blanket from the back of the  _ chaise _ over her legs. Ann has fallen safely asleep, so Anne returns to the door and stands there looking up at the sky. “The atmospheric pressure has changed” she muses while raising a finger to the wind to assess its direction. A large, thick, and dark cloud has gathered above and it is about to pour. “No wonder everyone has disappeared,” she thinks. 

She remembers all the materials and landscaping gear left out along the path she just traversed with Ann and shakes her head with disapproval. “Do they think I am made of money?” she exclaims irritated and walks out. After fifteen or so minutes she reenters the chaumière with various kinds of ropes coiled over one shoulder and a sack full of tools over the other. “Idiots,” she murmurs under her breath, dropping the sack of tools by the door with a clunk and gathering the ropes into a pile before shutting the door behind her. She removes her now muddy boots and props them over the tools, closing the front window shutters just as the sound of thick summer rain starts to envelop the surroundings.

With a deep breath she continues to the table by the side window and pours water into the basin. A quick look at her reflection on the window glass pane surprises her; she is absolutely filthy. Tired and irritated, Anne unbuttons her vest and shirt in a hurry, throwing both into a pile on the floor in disgust. The cool air all around her feels freeing.

As she splashes water on her face and torso Anne feels incredible relief and the first thoughts to enter her mind are the echoed words from Ann’s lips earlier, telling her exactly what she wanted.  _ Red. Rough. Sore. _

She lets her hair down and stops, looking at her reflection again. “Did she really tell me that? How exquisite,” she thinks. The delighted smile from before returns to her lips and eyes, and she turns around to look at Ann while grabbing a small linen sheet on the lower shelf under the side table to dry herself with. 

Anne freezes once she sees Ann staring directly at her. 

“Ann.”

Ann does not move. She does not blink. Her mouth is parted and she looks directly at Anne, taking all of her in. It has not been long, but Ann seems rested and alert now, almost curious.

Anne realizes that she’s barely holding the sheet in front of her nude torso and proceeds to pat down the dripping water from her chin while she watches Ann watching her. She takes a step forward approaching the chaise slowly and motions to sit; Ann pulls up her knees to give her room. 

Their eyes glisten, filled with excitement from seeing each other like this. Ann rocks forward on her knees, sitting back on her ankles. She motions towards Anne and takes the drying sheet away from her hands and starts to gently pat and dry the droplets of water on Anne’s cheeks. Anne is mesmerized. Ann breaks their eye contact and follows the damp spots, patting down Anne’s throat, the back of her neck, and around her strong shoulders. Anne opens both her arms apart and Ann leans forward and inches closer to pat her toned muscles dry. 

Ann continues to press on, now less gently, feeling Anne’s muscles flex as she extends her arms wider for her. She lets out a short gasp of excitement. 

The sound of the rain on the thatched roof is soft and soothing. Anne can hear Ann’s breath as she moves over her body and touches her with the linen. With every motion she observes Ann’s delicate hands. She feels so coddled and desired. How long had Ann been watching her?

Ann moves the fabric over Anne’s skin, down her breasts, and softly dries her with an eager look on her face. She reaches around Anne’s side ensuring her back is dry and returns her glance to Anne’s eyes once more. They are practically embracing but ever so slightly apart. Anne looks down at Ann’s lips then looks back into Ann’s eyes. Ann gives her the faintest nod of approval and reduces their distance to nothing, falling into Anne’s arms as she embraces her and their lips meet, warm and passionate.

Anne brings Ann into her, tightly, and savors this delicious moment of contact, wanting her more than ever. She feels strong and powerful and protective. Her hands travel repeatedly across Ann’s back and waist as they kiss, searching endlessly. She wishes the moment endless. 

Pulling her closer over her knees in a quick movement, she breaks their kiss. 

“Miss Walker, what are you doing to me?”

Ann feels weak in the knees. She is not quite sure how she came to wake in the chaumière, or what happened before, but she has never felt safer. Seeing Anne’s adoring eyes asking her such a question seems like a dream and she needs a moment to think of what to say. She caresses Ann’s face with her left hand pausing on her cheek. Anne closes her eyes and leans into it. 

“Anne, earlier, I don’t think it was the sun.”

“What do you mean?”

“I felt… I felt so overwhelmed by my feelings. What I told you. What I wanted. Want. Well, you see, I-” she pauses, “I haven’t felt any of these feelings before in my life. And now I keep feeling them again and again when I’m with you. I don’t know what to do with them. My body just doesn’t know what to do with this. And then,” she pauses for a short breath, “when I tried to be brave and tell you what I want like you asked me to... it felt like so much. Too much.” Ann feels like her words are not enough but also that Anne needs to know.

“My dearest Ann. I understand.” Anne takes Ann’s hand and kisses her knuckles softly. “Thank you for telling me. I want you to know that what you feel is perfectly natural,” she smiles excitedly. “Every person is capable of so much. And every idea, every image you conjure in your beautiful brain is wonderful. Wondrous! There are no limits to the innumerable things you can want and feel. Allow yourself the gift of feeling all that you want.” Anne turns Ann’s hands over and kisses the inside of her wrist. “I realize you had not been able to open yourself to these feelings before. But you can now. You need not be frightened.” She looks into Ann’s eyes with reassurance “Your body will soon catch up. I promise.”

The rain stops. Birds chirp outside.

Ann sighs with relief and adoration. “I don’t feel frightened when I am with you. Still… I don’t know what to do about these feelings most of the time.” Anne changes her demeanor and sits up, holding Ann’s hands together between hers. “Please listen to me. The only thing you can do is give yourself permission to try. And share them with me if you like. Like you did today. You put it into words as best you can, and we’ll figure it out, together. Alright?” 

Ann smiles. Anne smiles. 

“You are so kind and patient,” Ann says. Then, a memory flashes in her mind and she hides her face behind both hands exclaiming “Oh! I can’t believe I said what I said to you earlier. Standing on the grass, with my watercolors! With _ people _ around!” Anne lets out a hearty laugh. “I am so glad that you did. I have thought of nothing else since.” 

Ann shakes her head with a shy grin. 

“My dear,” Anne adds “I promise I am here for you as you try and understand exactly what it is that you want. Will you try?” Anne lifts Ann’s chin up with an inquisitive look on her face. 

“Yes Anne. I will. I will try with you.” Ann adds.

“Good. Good.” Anne nods calmly.

A loud knock on the door pulls them out of the moment and reminds them of where they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun to write yet it is not at all like what's next. Care to venture a guess? 😉 Please drop a comment with your thoughts and thank you for reading.


	3. Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne Lister finds that Ann Walker is full of surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up immediately after the previous one.
> 
> _A loud knock on the door pulls them out of the moment and reminds them of where they are._

Anne Lister always has a plan. Anne Lister is always ready to act. 

“Miss Lister? Miss Walker? It’s John,” the voice calls from outside. 

In this moment, however, Anne is sitting shirtless in the chaumière, Ann on her knee and an empty expression of pure surprise on her face.

“A moment John!” Ann exclaims loudly, uncharacteristically, while she rolls her eyes upwards. She places her hands on Anne’s shoulders and pulls herself up to a standing position then hands her the knitted blanket. She points to the rug, “Sit down and cover yourself,” then moves towards the door. 

Anne complies. Concealed by the _chaise,_ she listens to the door unlocking. “How do! Feelin’ better Miss Walker?” inquires Booth with a goofy grin while the door hinge creaks as it opens. 

“Yes, thank you John,” she answers reservedly. 

Booth hands her a basket and carafe and peeks around her. “Is Miss Lister in?”

“You know Miss Lister, out there collecting firewood somewhere,” Ann responds, looking inside the basket.

Booth nods and starts to turn when he sees Anne’s muddy boots propped on the sack by the door. Ann realizes this and adds “She was very disappointed that the tools were left about in the rain earlier. I expect she’ll want words with Mr Pickles.”

Booth grinds his teeth imagining what that will be like and turns back to Miss Walker “Yes ma’am,” then he’s off towards Shibden at a quick pace again.

Ann closes the door behind her with the basket over her arm. She leans back into the door trying to hold her laughter and can’t. The giggles escape her beaming face as she covers her mouth.

Anne peeks over the _chaise_ from the floor. “Lock that door, if you please,” she asks, astonished.

Ann locks the door and brings the basket and carafe towards the fireplace, sitting on the floor next to Anne. Anne stares at Ann, amazed. Ann is feeling smug and satisfied with herself. They laugh together as they inch closer next to each other and Anne places a blanketed arm over and around Ann. 

“You were perfect,” Anne tells her proudly. “Full of resolve and confidence.”

“I think you just like it when I tell you what to do, Anne,” she adds with a coy smile.

Anne is enjoying this. “Oh Miss Walker, you are full of surprises.” She smiles and leans in to kiss her.

Ann's eyes grow big with excitement and she eagerly meets Anne's lips into a warm kiss. Ann raises her hands to touch Anne’s face and deepens their kiss. She grips the back of Anne’s neck with passion and their tongues intertwine. A new wave of excitement washes over them. 

Anne leans into her and swiftly shifts their position, lowering Ann onto the floor and placing herself over her. Their kiss never breaks and Anne presses her whole body over Ann’s. 

Ann lifts her hips towards her hoping for more contact, faster. Anne feels her want and stretches her arm to Ann’s ankles, pulling her skirt’s hem up, revealing soft shifting legs and the bottoms of her undergarments. She looks at Ann hungrily and while positioning herself on her knees in between her legs, she spreads Ann’s thighs apart, exposing her among the open slit of her garment. She marvels at the sight for a moment.

Ann gasps with excitement and mouths the word yes to her with wanting eyes. Anne leans down and her right hand seeks Ann’s middle urgently. Her fingers are immediately coated in the thick warm glistening substance that oozes from Ann. Ann’s whole body vibrates as she is touched. 

Anne moves her fingers up and down Ann’s lips coating them messily. Ann pulls her knees up and further apart. 

“Tell me what you want Ann.” 

She has wanted this since she started watching Anne work on the path early in the morning. And more so after watching from the chaise as she washed in the basin. And even more still since drying every part of her body herself.

Breathing shallow breaths she tells her, “I want you. Inside me.” She scarcely finishes her sentence before Anne turns her palm upwards and slides her middle and index finger inside her, deeply. 

Ann cries out in pleasure and squeezes her eyes shut. Anne revels in the warm pressure around her fingers, then proceeds to pull herself out and move back in, increasing her pace with every motion. 

Ann watches Anne’s body move while she enters her over and over. Her strong build towers over her now and she reaches for Anne’s other hand on the rug. She grasps it tightly. Her hips rock forward in rhythm to meet Anne’s hand as it fills her. She yearns for Anne’s body on hers.

“Anne. Hold me down,” she begs, and pulls the hand from the rug over her chest, pressing Anne’s palm down onto herself with both of her hands. Anne leans into her, feeling the fresh wound on her palm burn from the friction against the frills on the dress’s fabric. She winces. While she holds Ann down with her left hand, her right hand fills her furiously now, and she watches Ann’s body rise in pleasure.

Ann’s breathing is fast and shallow, and she struggles to keep her moans inside. “Don’t fight it. Let me hear you,” Anne tells her. 

Ann lets out a long moan from deep in her throat. She didn’t realize she wanted to or that she needed Anne’s permission, but now that she has it, a new layer of joy fills her as she moves. She smiles with her eyes closed in ecstasy.

The moans become louder and louder filling the chaumière with sound and Anne with excitement. “Yes, Ann. Let yourself feel it all,” Anne tells her as her right arm thrusts between her legs to meet her at every breath. 

Anne thinks to herself that never has she seen a more splendid sight and feels completely enthralled by everything about Ann in this moment—the pain gathering in her left hand adding to the heightened feeling.

With a long high pitched melodic cry Ann’s body convulses under Anne’s grip and after a long wave of pleasure washes over her, she attempts to breathe normally, but experiences multiple tremors as her body slowly settles. 

Ann opens her eyes after a few moments to find a gleeful smile on Anne’s face. “You are a marvel,” she hears Anne say earnestly. 

“Please hold me Anne,” she begs as her muscles relax and she feels unable to move. Anne moves her fingers out from inside her and presses her palm gently against Ann’s center, like a silent thank you.

She lays on the ground next to Ann, simultaneously wiping her hand on her skirt and pulling a pillow under her head from the _chaise._ Ann nuzzles into her, laying her head on Anne’s bare chest with an arm over her. 

They embrace restfuly, eyes closed, and stay unmoving and quiet, neither wishing to let go of this moment.

The rain stars once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just kept writing so might as well post now.
> 
> If you had asked me on Monday if I'd ever write a fic here I would have said maybe. 
> 
> If you said I'd write over four thousand words in 24 hours I'd have called you mad. 
> 
> And yet, here we are! Enjoy.


	4. Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a wonderful time together at the chaumière, Anne and Ann make their way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins immediately after the previous one ends.
> 
> _They embrace, eyes closed, and stay unmoving and quiet for several minutes, neither wishing to let go of this moment._
> 
> _The rain stars once again._

A growl awakens Anne. It’s her stomach. And also Ann’s. She smiles. 

Ann is still asleep holding on to her body. Anne presses her face into Ann’s hair and kisses her lovingly. She smells warm and sweet.

“Ann. A-ann. Wake up.” Anne kisses her temple.

Ann extends her arm down into a stiff stretch before reluctantly opening one eye to look up at Anne. “Nooo...” she begs.

Anne chuckles and gently lifts Ann onto a sitting position, adjusting the blanket across both of their shoulders. “I am ravenous. I trust you are too,” she says while reaching for the basket. Anne pulls out a bundle and unwraps it, then begins to part a loaf of bread with her hands.

“How long was I asleep?” Ann asks with a yawn, eyes closed once more. 

Anne looks around for her watch. The chain is extended under the chaise. She fishes it back out and flicks her Perrelet open: “37 minutes,” she answers, clicking it shut. 

She holds out a morsel of food before Ann’s lips in waiting. Ann’s eyes open, finally. She smiles and opens her mouth. Anne feeds her and then feeds herself.

Anne uncorks the carafe and takes a long swig then stops, surprised. “Beer!?” 

Ann gives her a curious look. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted beer.”

Anne motions the carafe towards Ann and pauses. Ann shakes her head and pushes it down while sweetly moving her head towards Anne with a smile and stopping before her lips. 

Anne understands and kisses her softly, soon allowing her to taste the beer on her tongue. They part and Ann licks her lips. “Well, fine,”—she picks up the carafe and takes a sip, making a somewhat regretful face. 

Anne laughs. “Oh Ann, you _are_ full of surprises. I simply adore it.” Ann giggles.

“Please eat,” Anne adds as she kneels forward. “There is cold veal and butter in there.” She pulls an apple out of the basked, takes a bite and hands it to Ann, then gets up in a jolt moving towards the pile of clothes she dropped on the corner.

“Oof!” she huffs while inspecting the unwearable shirt, and moves to the middle of the room, behind the chaise, where a large battered leather trunk sits. 

She pops it open and rummages through the items inside, pulling out an old white shirt. It has holes on the elbows and smells stale from being kept away.

“It will have to do,” she adds, putting it on quickly. She gathers something else from the trunk and shuts it with a thump, returning to Ann, who licks her right thumb after swallowing a large bite of veal. “You were right. I was quite hungry.” 

“Shall we make our way home soon?” Anne asks. 

“If you like.”

“It’s been a strenuous day,” she adds with a coquettish grin. Ann blushes.

They finish their meal and Anne collects the items inside the basket. Anne puts her dirty vest over her cleaner shirt, reluctantly, and shoves the dirty shirt in the basket too with the carafe on top. 

Once her boots are back on she pulls her hair up and gathers it on the back of her neck, then ties it with a short string and unlocks the door quickly. 

Ann looks around the chaumière and adjusts the pillows on the chaise before putting on her hat and tying the bow under her chin.

They step outside and smile at each other. It is evident that both are thinking about the time they spent together in it. 

Ann carries the basket and feels refreshed by the cool afternoon air taking a deep breath in. They hold hands on and off as they stroll along the path.

As they approach the edge of the tree line and before they walk out onto the open field towards Shibden, Anne comes up behind Ann, wrapping her hands around her waist, swiftly pulling her off the path and against the trunk of a large old oak. 

“Anne!” 

Anne looks into her eyes with a devilish grin, moving her further around the thick trunk so they are among the fuller foliage from the bushes surrounding them. Nobody can see them from a distance.

She pulls the basket from Ann’s hands and places it on the ground. With her left foot in between Ann’s, she inches her knee forward parting Ann’s legs, pressing into her. Ann instinctively closes her eyes and lays her head back against the tree.

Anne’s hands slide down from Ann’s waist, pulling one thigh higher into her, grinding their bodies together as she places her lips hungrily on Ann’s neck and drags her teeth down with a hot breath. She sucks and kisses her skin with passion and listens to Ann’s excitement grow as their bodies rub against each other.

The tree branches above move in a swaying pattern and become louder with the wind blowing the clouds away. The melody of different passerine birds perching above them feels like a celebration. 

Anne takes a breath and faces Ann. She moves both hands upwards along Ann’s torso. “May I?” Ann can’t imagine saying no to a single thing Anne might suggest right now and moans a soft yes as she contends with the rising heat building in her center.

Anne cups Ann’s breasts massaging them with her fingers. Her thumb circles her nipples through the layers of fabric and she lowers her head to kiss Ann’s cleavage. She presses her body and left thigh tightly into Ann, eliciting a soft moan of pleasure. 

Anne looks around to ensure their privacy, then to Ann. 

“Do you feel sore yet?” 

Ann gasps and grins.

“Yes.” She bites her tongue.

“Are you sure?” Anne adds.

“You filled me so,” she blushes, “I’ll feel sore for days.” Her eyes close and she searches for Anne’s mouth eagerly.

Anne refuses her advances pinning her tightly against the tree. Ann moans.

“Good.” Anne says approvingly. “Turn around. Now.” She lets Ann go and takes a step back.

Ann is surprised by the command but doesn’t hesitate. She turns towards the oak then turns her head back to look at Anne over her shoulder, expectantly. 

“Spread your legs apart”. Ann directs while taking Ann’s wrists and pulling them behind her back.

Ann drags her delicate shoes apart in the dirt until she finds she can’t go further. Anne pushes Ann forward against the tree trunk, careful to press her torso into it first, protecting her face. Ann is more than intrigued. The bark rubs against her cleavage roughly. She already feels her wetness dripping down her thighs and hopes Anne will touch her soon.

She hears Anne take something from the basket and feels movement behind her back. 

Anne unravels a small bunch of rope quickly folding it in half. She makes Ann hold her own forearms with the opposite hand behind her, pulling her shoulders back and straightening her posture.

Ann wonders if Anne got the rope from that pile in the chaumière. She planned this. Knowing Anne intended to take her like this fill her with excitement. Her nipples harden.

Anne passes the folded rope between Ann’s clasped forearms and her back, then inserts the excess rope through the loop that is formed at the bottom. 

Ann moans, “Oh, Anne...” Anne repeats the loop five more times for good measure. With a gentle tug she confirms she’s got a grip on Ann. 

Anne pushes Ann’s torso downward away from her and harder against the oak. She then pulls Ann's hips upwards towards herself. 

“Don’t move.” 

Ann trembles with anticipation. The moss on the bark provides enough cover to keep her from hurting herself but Ann is raveling in the sensation of having her neck and cleavage get repeatedly scratched against the rough surface as Anne moves her.

The cool air is welcome for a split second before Ann is scandalized by Anne lifting her skirt over her leaning body, completely exposing her bottom and legs. Anne ensures Ann’s bound arms are placed over the bunched up fabric so she has full view of Ann’s body.

She handles the slits on Ann’s undergarments, spreading them aside before approaching her more closely. Ann closes her eyes expectantly. Anne leans over her until her mouth is just below Ann’s left ear.

“Do you trust me?” Anne whispers.

“Always.” she answers, with a hint of desperation.

“I’m going to be rough with you.”

Ann’s knees buckle but she tries to steady herself.

Still close, pulling down on the rope that keeps Ann in place, Anne touches something cold against the inside of Ann’s right thigh. She shudders.

Anne positions the object directly over Ann’s wet vulva, sliding it to nest it in between her soft lips, nearly entering her. Ann yelps. 

It’s hard, smooth, rounded and long, and before Ann can try to guess what it is Anne thrusts it into her as far as she can go, her grip touching firmly against Ann’s wet folds. She is so wet in anticipation there is no resistance. 

Ann holds her breath in and Anne pulls it out.

Ann tries to spread her arms out so she can hold on but Anne pulls down on the rope to bring her into position again. 

“You are not going anywhere. I said... Don’t. Move.”

Ann freezes.

Anne thrusts the cool object inside her again. Ann takes it willingly, feeling her heat build up. 

Anne starts to thrust into her with increasing speed. She grips it like a sword, a familiar motion. Every time she fills her, Anne’s hand hits her with a loud smacking sound. Ann feels wonderful inside and is further excited to realize that delectable sound comes from the impact of Anne’s fist against all of her sex.

Anne’s muscles work hard and she feels a layer of sweat forming on her skin while she drives forcefully into Ann. Ann can only breathe as she feels every bit of her body expand in ecstasy.

Anne knows Ann won’t be able to take more than a few more thrusts before she feels her release. As Ann starts to reach her peak, Anne drops the binding rope, allowing it to loosen, and pulls up her own skirt reaching underneath to unbutton her undergarments. They drop to the ground around her legs.

She’s wanted this so much. She also knows it will take very little to bring her to the edge. With a twisting motion, she pulls the object from inside Ann’s body and throws it down on the basket. She bends Anne’s body over further and brings her hips into Ann. 

She rubs her sex against Ann’s and closes her eyes in bliss.

Ann moans loudly as she feels Anne’s body against her.

Anne’s hands hold each side of Anne’s hips, pulling her as close as she can. She rubs herself up and down with short bursts of movement, bringing her close to ecstasy. She is elated. This is a feeling beyond compare.

Anne continues to rock into Ann, their wetness mixed and spread where it may. Ann can't hold her position anymore and drops her forearm grip from behind her back, desperately reaching for Anne behind her. She grabs Anne behind her knees and pulls her deeper into her.

Anne almost loses her balance and leans forward against the tree to steady herself with her left hand. The textured bark breaks the skin on her wounded palm and the intense pain mixed with the delicious sensation against Ann takes her over the edge.

The women clash against each other calling each other’s names in passion and feel their insides dissolve into deep pleasure.

Their heat subsides and Anne stops moving. They are both spent. 

Anne pulls her undergarment up, buttons it, then straightens out her wrinkled skirt. She holds Anne's hand and helps her stand back up. Ann's dress rolls down her back and legs.

“Anne. I-… I scarcely know what to say.” Ann’s eyes look at the ground searching, leaning one arm against the tree for balance. She turns around.

“The way you felt against me,” she has the most gleeful smile Anne has seen. “The way you moved with me,” she searches for more words and finds none. 

Anne brings her into an embrace steadying her with her right arm wrapped around her waist. 

"I am sorry." Anne adds and nods at Ann's cleavage. Her delicate _fichu_ is completely destroyed.

Ann laughs. Her collarbones and neck feel sore from the repeated impact but she's never enjoyed a sensation so much.

"I forgive you." She kisses Anne on the cheek.

They both lean back against the tree side by side, catching their breaths and watching nature all around them. They hear every sound; as if the world has been turned up louder and more vibrant.

After a minute or two they try to adjust their crumpled garments. The fichu and rope go into the basket. Anne takes the second last sip of beer from the carafe and hands it to Ann who finishes it.

They smile at each other and head out into the clearing walking towards Shibden Hall as the afternoon falls into evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well.
> 
> I for one did not know this is where this was going. Drinking a tall cool glass of water now. Whew.
> 
> I am so fucking wordy but I promised myself this was going to be about just writing whatever comes with minimal editing so I don't lose my nerve so, _voilá_.
> 
> Your comments have been the kindest and I appreciate you taking the time to leave them. 😘


	5. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne contends with the consequences of letting her lust lead the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins immediately after the previous one ends.
> 
> _They smile at each other and head out into the clearing walking towards Shibden Hall as the afternoon falls into evening._

As they approach Shibden Hall, Anne realizes her left hand's injuries are more significant than she thought. 

She holds Ann arm in arm and furtively glances at her left hand out of view so as not to concern her—she is actively bleeding. The heat of infection radiates to her fingers. Anne closes her fist to conceal and deter the flow.

Argus greets them a few meters in front of the front steps and Ann leans over to rub behind his ears with a smile. Anne waits for her by the strong wooden door covered in ancient rivets that guards Shibden's entrance.

She courteously allows Ann to pass before her crossing the dark wooden archway above and just as Ann grabs on to the metal loop that opens the door, she feels Anne's hand on her right shoulder. 

She pauses and turns around. Anne motions forward ever so slowly with bedroom eyes. The small alcove that protects the door barely conceals them but Ann has no time to react before Anne's lips touch her ever so slightly in a soft kiss that barely touches her own.

Ann attempts to move back and that only pins her against the heavy door. Anne does not pressure her but also barely moves away. They remain in this state of extreme closeness, lingering in the intimacy of the moment.

Ann feels drunk on Anne's scent and the memories they made that day. She watches the strands of hair falling over Anne's precarious ponytail into her eyes. She wants to touch her face and feel her warmth but this feels risky.

She cannot believe she felt both so free and oblivious to allow Anne to take her in the open air of the woods earlier. An intense feeling of dread comes over her as she imagines them getting caught.

"Anne, let's not be foolish," she pleads.

Anne sobers up in agreement and stands aside to allow Ann to push the door open. 

Once inside, Anne encourages Ann to head directly upstairs on her own while she pops into the kitchen to instruct Eugenie to prepare a bath for Ann.

Ann stops to leave the basket before moving into the main room but Anne raises her eyebrows motioning her to take it with her.

Ann puts one hand over her mouth in surprise, realizing finally that there is still something mysterious in the basket. Something she is now intimately familiar with. How could she have forgotten?! She rushes upstairs hoping not to run into Marian on her way. 

Anne, relieved, goes into the kitchen. She instructs Eugenie who had already started the bath given the advanced time of day, "oui madame..."

"Fetch me some gauze from the pantry and boil some water. Bring it to me when it's done," Anne asks Cordingley, who is mashing potatoes for cottage pie.

Cordingley notices how pale Miss Lister seems and understands something is not right. She cleans her hands on her pinafore and heads to the fire to put on the kettle while nodding.

As Miss Lister walks away, she sees blood drip from her extended hand. Anne notices and bends her elbow upwards to stop gravity from revealing her pain.

Cordingley moves quickly. This is not the first time Miss Lister has given her this look. She has certainly looked worse. She only wishes she would tell her more.

Anne feels faint but moves to the library in a hurry, searching for her copy of Ambroise Paré's _Ouvre_. With her right hand caressing the spines of her many volumes, she skips the anatomy titles and narrows her search to a beat up octavo with a beige cover at the end of the shelf when a loud squeal makes her jump.

"Oh, _must_ you move around these halls like a ghost? Announce yourself why don't you!" challenges Marian consternated.

"W-… What are you doing here?" Anne lashes out irritated with her sister's tone.

"I am sitting in my _home_ , reading. What are _you_ doing?" she retorts, more irritated.

Anne doesn't have the energy nor the time for this and rolls her eyes ignoring her as she drops the book open on the table and pages through. Marian huffs and turns to her magazine.

Anne smiles fondly upon seeing Cuvier's kind inscription on the front page with best wishes for his most eager student. Then her pain reminds her of her urgency.

She flips through instructions for addressing battle wounds, extracting bullets and applying torniquetes. She finally arrives at a page with a detailed drawing of the human hand, showing an exposed set of ligaments with lines indicating their names and function.

Anne studies the text for another moment and realizes she is sweating profusely. "Enough learning, it is time to act," she thinks to herself.

She grabs the open book under her right arm and uses her good hand to hold her bashed hand into a tightly closed fist.

Skipping every second step of the stairway, Anne makes her way upstairs where Cordingley has already set up the kettle near her basin and left a pile of gauze over fresh drying sheets. She pours the hot water in.

Anne reaches for her trunk and finds a small metal box. She opens a sheet on the bed and scatters the contents about. Different size needles and surgical knives lay on display.

She drops the needles into the water and dips a small square of linen into it, then presses it against her gushing wound with force.

Anne feels weak for a moment and also relieved. She hears Ann in the adjacent room splashing water in her bath. Can she get this over with in time?

She removes the needles from the water onto the sheet with curved-tip tongs. Deeming the water reasonably cooled she rolls up her sleeves to her elbows and dips both hands in, washing them with great pain. 

The basin transforms into a deep red. She pulls her shirt over her torso and head with her right hand and uses it to dry her hands lightly. "I need to buy more shirts," she thinks.

Her spirits low and heavy sweat on her brow, Anne attempts to hold a needle with her wounded hand and to insert the thread with her right. 

Her fingers tremble. She feels unsteady. Many attempts fail. On her knees, Anne looks to the bed where she let Paré's book fall. She doesn't know what she is seeking but hopes for an answer for how to escape this predicament.

Ann opens the door and comes into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this in one sitting. It became too interesting to me and too long to continue into the action I intended to write at first so I'm breaking here so I can post right away (and thus continue to do this without much editing as quickly as it comes). 
> 
> P.S.: A thing that inspired me to write this:The Anne Lister Bookshelf, a project where the Anne Lister Code Breakers are collecting books and references AL mentions in her diaries (https://is.gd/annelisterbookshelf).


End file.
